


Call Me Kitten

by Ambereyedwolfchild



Series: 30 Day OTP Challenge [13]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blind!Seb, Cheating, Lots of Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-06 23:34:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambereyedwolfchild/pseuds/Ambereyedwolfchild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everytime they fought Jim would make empty threats, he'd glare at Sebastian and tell him that he was off to find somebody better. It turns out the threats weren't as empty as they seemed. </p><p>A video file and a not so accidental accident can change everything in a heartbeat.</p><p>For Days 23 and 24 of my 30 Day OTP Challenge: Arguing and Making Up Afterwards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**_Day 23: Arguing_ **

Sebastian was level headed, he stayed calm through almost any situation and he prided himself on that fact. It was a necessary skill for anyone spending any time with Jim, let alone the man’s flatmate and sometimes-kinda-sorta-maybe boyfriend. Sebastian was well used to ignoring Jim’s histrionics. Now though, now Sebastian was furious. Furious and _hurt._ Jim made a thousand empty threats a day, and yesterday had been no different. Sebastian had never expected Jim to follow through.

His phone was in pieces on the floor, a scratch in the paint where it had hit the wall. He’d thrown it nearly five hours ago now, almost as soon as that revolting video came through. It hadn’t helped. Every frame of that video was tattooed behind his eyelids and every time he blinked he could see it.

_Jim fumbled with the camera on his phone, pointing it at himself and speaking in a drunken whisper. “Hi Sebby! Ready for the show?” There was a low chuckle and the camera wobbled as it changed hands but stayed pointing at Jim. It followed the Irishman as he dropped gracefully to his knees, eyes wide and delighted as he reached up with an oh-so-familiar concentrated expression. A zipper was pulled, sounding incredibly loud in the thick silence. Jim pushed down the man’s jeans and underwear, shuffling a little closer on his knees and giving the camera one last look._

_Whatever horny stranger Jim had found was half hard already and Jim giggled, licking his lips. There was a moment of blurriness as the camera shook and when the picture cleared it came with a low moan. Jim was loosely  fisting the man’s cock, coaxing him to full hardness and flicking his tongue almost delicately against the head. He ran his tongue across the sensitive glans, eventually wrapping his lips around the man and swallowing him down. It took him a few agonisingly slow moving seconds to adjust and force back his gag reflex and a loud moan crackled through the speakers as the tip of the man’s cock hit the back of Jim’s throat._

_“Oh god.”_

_Jim pulled off slowly, lightly scraping his teeth along the stranger’s shaft, and a thin trail of spit and precome dripped from his slightly swollen lower lip. He smirked, looking directly into the camera as he spoke. “’m no god.” There was wry amusement in his tone as Jim’s hand moved automatically, a small flick at the end of each thrust making the man he’d picked up pant and groan. “You can call me kitten if you’d like.”_

_A hand wove into Jim’s hair, dragging him back towards the stranger’s cock, and there was a grunt from behind the camera. “Good, kitten.”_

Sebastian felt sick. He’d stopped watching not long after that, once Jim had stood up with his accent thick and cracked from the strain his throat had been put under. For the first time ever that throaty drawl didn’t make him shiver and his cock jump. Jim had set the camera down on a dresser, pointed directly to the bed, and Sebastian had snapped and trashed his phone.

It was stupid really. He shouldn’t be upset.  It wasn’t like he was being replaced. He knew he didn’t mean anything to Jim. Sebastian’s own feelings were meaningless. You can’t cheat on someone if you’re not actually together. Jim had told him so himself for fuck’s sake.

_“Get out of my sight.” Jim screamed at him, hands curled into fists at his sides and eyes black with rage and something that Sebastian couldn’t quite identify. “You disgust me.”_

_Sebastian stared at him in confusion, used to being yelled at by Jim but genuinely not sure what he’d done this time. “What’s wrong?”_

_“You!” It was a near hysterical snarl this time and Jim backed up a step as Sebastian moved forward. “You always looking at me like a lost little puppy. You and your fucking emotions, clouding your judgement. What happened to you? You used to be strong and wild and powerful and now you’re some tame little bitch, waiting for Daddy to love you back. You disgust me.” The words poured out at a hundred miles an hour and Sebastian stumbled back a step,  not sure how to react to the vitriol that Jim was spitting at him. “You think you’re something special but you’re not. You’re just a washed up soldier who happens to have a lucky shot. You’re only here still because you shoot well. Keeping my bed warm so I don’t have to find anyone else to fuck is just a bonus. I could find someone else in a fucking heartbeat, and I bet they wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall in love with me.”_

_Sebastian was silent for a long time, everything he tried to say clogging in his throat. “Maybe if you’re so sure you can find someone better then you should go and fucking do it.”_

_Jim lifted his chin, eyes like ice and fire at once. “You know what, darling.” The nickname was spat out like a cuss word, like it dirtied Jim’s mouth just to let the word pass his lips. “I think I will. Can’t be more pathetic than you.”_

Jim had stalked out then, disappearing for the night. It wasn’t the first time he’d disappeared with angry words and an empty threat, but it had never, _never_ , been that bad before. Sebastian kept expecting to get a call to come pick Jim up from some bar but it never came. When the sniper’s phone finally did chime at 2am he leapt for it, refusing to even be embarrassed about his need to know if Jim was okay. Because Sebastian was in love with Jim and that was the simple truth. It had been for a long time. He’d resigned himself to the fact Jim would never love him back, because _really_ look at them both. Jim was a force of nature and Sebastian was nothing. He’d just deluded himself into thinking Jim cared enough at least to pretend he didn’t know.

It wasn’t a text asking to be picked up. It was an email and Sebastian frowned in confusion, clicking on the video file attached that was titled simply ‘Seb xx’.

Sebastian hadn’t moved since he’d pressed play.

\---

There was a creak, the front door opening slowly and Sebastian stared in disbelief as Jim crept in. It made the urge to vomit rush over him again and he averted his eyes. The Irishman was ruffled and looked so very small. His hair was messed up, lips swollen and eyes red with what Sebastian assumed could only be exhaustion. There were shoddily concealed bite marks all up his neck and hand shaped bruises on his arms. He didn’t doubt there were countless more beneath the jeans Jim wore and from the way the criminal gingerly lowered himself into his arm chair he didn’t want to know.

Jim looked across at Sebastian and frowned slightly. “Seb-“ He started but faltered immediately. “I want to apologise for what I said. I didn’t mean it.”

Sebastian closed his eyes for a moment, fighting back the nauseated feeling in his stomach. Of all the things to apologise he was apologising for the _argument_? The sniper nodded stiffly. “Forget about it. Doesn’t matter. It was just a fight.” He’d said the words before, countless times, but he’d never meant them before. Because now it really was just a fight. God, he wished it was the same as always and he could be pissed about the fight but he couldn’t. He just felt empty.

Jim nodded slowly, a cautious smile creeping onto his face. “Gonna kiss and make up, tiger?” It was the same tone as always, their own little routine but Sebastian didn’t feel like playing along any more. The sniper just shook his head, pushing himself out of his chair, moving through to the kitchen and ignoring Jim’s confusion. “Seb?”

“No.” Sebastian replied quietly, leaning against the counter and dropping his face into his hands. He was surprised as arms wound around his waist, Jim wouldn’t normally follow him. But then Jim had never done this before. “Get off, Jim.” He said, voice still quiet as he gently pushed Jim away from himself and started looking through the cupboards to avoid looking at the smaller man.

“I’ll have a cup of tea if you’re making one.” Jim chirped, usually cheery tone underscored by a note of hesitancy as he tried to work out what was wrong with Sebastian.

“I’m not. Just leave me alone, yeah? Go have a shower, you reek of those fucking bars.” And sex. Jim stank of cheap cologne, sex and booze and if Sebastian was around it much longer he really was going to be sick.

\---

Three days. Jim lasted three days before snapping, three days of being pushed away every time he tried to sit in Sebastian’s lap or steal a kiss, three days of Sebastian making excuses and rescheduling hits so he’d be out late and gone early, never in bed with Jim for more than an hour or so. Three days of Sebastian avoiding eye contact and every other kind of contact with Jim.

“What’s wrong with you?” The question was snarled, frustration bubbling over as the sniper dodged a cheerful good morning kiss from the Irishman who had, until that moment, been in a good mood. “You’ve been pussyfooting around for days. Are you still angry from the fight?”

Sebastian laughed bitterly, shaking his head and shooting Jim a glare, finally at his wits end. “No. I’m still angry because you cheated on me.”

Jim’s eyes widened in surprise but apparently his ridiculous stubborn streak was still in place as he shook his head. “I didn’t cheat on you! I told you, I got in a fight, that’s what all the bruises are from.”

A sharp stab of anger rocketed through Sebastian and he ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. “Jim, you can’t fucking deny it when you sent me a fucking video.” He didn’t expect Jim’s jaw to drop and for the man to look genuinely horrified.

“I what?”

“Did I fucking stutter?” Sebastian asked, pent up anger starting to show on the surface as he crossed his arms with a frown. “I got a video file at two in the fucking morning of you sucking off some guy and telling him to call you kitten.” He had to admit that that had hurt the most. It wasn’t even as though it was a drunken mistake. Jim, admittedly drunk Jim but that didn’t change a thing, had been actively trying to hurt Sebastian. “It looked like it went a hell of a lot further but I couldn’t watch it.” He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly and turning away. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this. I thought I could.” He swallowed hard, not quite believing he was about to say what he was.

“I quit.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim expected Sebastian to be back in a week but it seems there's been a few more complications than he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh, this turned from a one shot into a two shot. And now it's going to be a multi chapter fic, so yeah...
> 
> Warning: Accident that causes a physical disability, although no gore or descriptions of the images are currently included.

When Sebastian left Jim had expected him to be back in four days, a week at the most. He’d storm through the door and ignore Jim until the younger man dropped into his lap, curling up and playing it cute until Sebastian gave up and ran his fingers through Jim’s hair, hugging him close and forgiving him. It had been three months now and Sebastian was still missing. Well. Not missing. Jim knew exactly where he was. The sniper had moved back into his own apartment, working freelance for every damn criminal in London. Jim wouldn’t give up that easily. Sebastian wanted to come back, Jim could _feel_ it. After all, if he didn’t then he wouldn’t have hesitated before telling everybody how he’d quit, but he wasn’t. The way he span the tale, he was still working for Jim, just working freelance too.

It didn’t make sense, and Jim couldn’t _not_ know the truth. But it was harder than he’d expected to corner the sniper. If he broke into the flat then Sebastian wouldn’t come home. There was nothing he could do. And that infuriated him.

When his phone rang, the name flashing up as the man who was in charge of the team he had watching Sebastian he forced his voice to stay calm and casual. “Yes?” He snapped, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his eyes idly. “What is it?”

The man, Roberts his name was, seemed taken aback by the tone and it took him a moment to remember what he’d been saying. “It’s Moran, sir. We lost him for four hours when he went on a job.” That wasn’t unusual and Jim waited impatiently for Roberts to get to the point. “He just came back onto the radar, sir, he’s in Central Hospital.”

Jim was on his feet in a heartbeat, locking his laptop and shoving it into his desk drawer, locking that as well. “Get me a car, I want to be at the hospital in ten minutes, understood?” He hung up, shoving his phone into his pocket and forcing himself to go through the repetitive motions of locking up his office and making sure there was no information unprotected before making his way quickly to the curb outside, sliding straight into the car waiting. “Central Hospital. Go.”

Apparently his orders had been carried through as, through the bending of a few speeding laws, Jim was outside the hospital in seven and a half minutes. He let the car door slam behind him, stalking into the hospital and up to the reception desk. It was ridiculously easy to get in to see Sebastian. A few crocodile tears and well placed lies and the receptionist melted and gave him the room number. That certainly wasn’t good enough. He’d have to put some security of his own in place if Sebastian would have to stay here.

Sebastian had his back to the door as Jim came in, not moving to see who had entered, or even reacting as Jim padded over to the side of the bed. “Seb.” Jim said softly, reaching out to touch what he assumed was Sebastian’s arm under the heap of blankets. He didn’t get any more reaction than a flinch and a feeble sound, nothing more than a pained whimper. “Seb, please. Look at me?”

The sniper took a visible breath, pulling himself together and gritting his jaw, still not turning to face Jim. “I can’t. Go away, Jim.” His voice was tight with pain and raw with emotion, as if he was fighting back a sob. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

Jim huffed, a frustrated sound as he moved closer, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You can’t? Seb, please. It’s been months, I want you to come home. I said I’m sorry. Look at me.”

Sebastian laughed, the sound pained and bitter. “No, Jim. It’s not that I can’t look at you. I _can’t_ look at you.” He rolled over, looking downright _beaten_ as he stared a little to the right of Jim. A stark white bandage was wrapped around his eyes, a few faint spots of crimson flecked through the material. “I can’t.” He repeated, forcing the words past a lump in his throat.

Jim stared, unable to speak for a drawn out minute as he stared at Sebastian. “Seb-“ he whispered, reaching out for a moment before dropping his hand. “What happened?” He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, almost flinching as Sebastian tried and failed to track his movements.

“Hit went bad. The guy who hired me sold me out an’ I got ambushed. They did… this and let me go. Was all they wanted to do apparently.” The sniper explained slowly and quietly, head falling to hide the bandages from view. “Just leave, Jim. Please.”

Jim shook his head, realising only in hindsight that Sebastian wouldn’t have seen the motion. He stood, smoothing out the bedspread uselessly before padding into the hall to take a deep breath and call a few different employees and make demands. He wanted to find who’d done this to his sniper and make them _hurt._

When a nurse headed into Sebastian’s room Jim trailed after her, sitting back on the edge of the bed and taking Sebastian’s hand in his own. He winced as Sebastian flinched but didn’t let him shake his hand off. Sebastian’s shoulders were shaking slightly and his breathing was uneven as he tried to subtle pull away from Jim. “How are you feeling, Mr. Moran?” The nurse, Caitlyn her badge proclaimed her, asked as she checked some of the machines, frowning slightly at the readouts. “Your heart rate leapt up a few minutes ago. Everything okay?”

Sebastian paused then nodded slowly, hand tightening reflexively around Jim’s. “Had a bit of a scare. S’okay.” His voice was soft, strangely so, and Jim looked up at the nurse, slight concern on his face that was, for once, not hidden by his mask.

“When can I take him home?”

The nurse’s gaze flicked to their joined hands and nodded in comprehension. “We need to have you in overnight for observation but we’ll discharge you in the morning. You can take him home then.” She spoke to each of them in turn before finishing up with checking his equipment and moving out of the room quietly.

Sebastian didn’t speak until the door slammed shut behind her and he yanked his hand back, rolling onto his side and turning his back to Jim. “Why are you still here?” He asked bluntly, voice flat and empty.

Jim frowned, watching Sebastian like a hawk as he moved. “I’m bringing you home, obviously.”

Sebastian shook his head fiercely, wincing as the movement hurt his aching skull. “I don’t want your pity. I’ll cope just fine on my own.” His voice was no more than a pained hiss as he pressed his face into his pillow. He was a mess of anger and frustration and he wanted to _cry._ He wanted to let it all out but he couldn’t. His tear ducts were burned out and useless now and the urge to cry was like an awful itch he couldn’t scratch.

“Nonsense, tiger.” Jim hummed, cautiously petting the sniper’s hair but only managing to get his hands slapped away for his trouble. “Sebastian.” He tried again, managing to run his fingers through soft blonde hair once before Sebastian fought back the urge to lean into the touch and smacked his hand away once more. “I _want_ you to come home.” He paused for a moment, voice softening to no more than a whisper. “I you.”

Sebastian snorted bitterly, gesturing towards his eyes as best he could. “You don’t need me. I know I'm useless now, you can stop pretending."

A low snarl surprised Jim as it fell from his lips, the calm he’d been keeping giving way to his quickfire anger. “You are _not_ useless. I need _you.”_ He ran his hands through his hair in exasperation. “I don’t care whether you can see or not.”

The sniper’s face screwed up in confusion at that. “What?” He struggled upright, getting tangled in the blankets as he looked in the direction he thought Jim’s voice was coming from. “Of course you care. I’m- I was a sniper. I can’t do my job if I can’t see. If I can’t do my job then I’m useless. You told me so yourself.” Sebastian sounded so sure of himself that Jim faltered… when had he ever told Sebastian something like that? As soon as the question crossed his mind the memories assaulted him.

_“You’re just a washed up soldier who happens to have a lucky shot. You’re only still here because you shoot well.”_

Jim sighed softly, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hands. “Oh, Seb.” He trailed off, reaching out to cup Sebastian’s cheek, just firm enough that he couldn’t pull away. “I didn’t mean that.” He rested their foreheads together, shivering slightly as Sebastian’s breath ghosted across his lips. “I was just angry. I need you.” He repeated the sentiment softly, thumb brushing across Sebastian’s cheekbone, just below the rough edge of the bandage.

Sebastian scowled but stayed put, hands curling into fists around the scratchy hospital blankets. "You don't say things you don't mean."

"I do when I'm scared." Jim breathed, insides churning slightly. He never admitted weakness, never admitted anything that could be used against him. Today would be an exception. Jim stared at the sniper for a moment, swallowing hard at how broken and bruised and completely _crushed_ he looked. This was his fault. An unfamiliar stab of guilt made him frown and he promised himself right there and then that he'd fix this- fix Sebastian.

Jim shifted slightly, closing his eyes for a split second. "I'm only going to say this once, so listen closely." He sighed, fumbling for the right words to explain the emotions that he couldn't wholly understand himself. "When I get scared, I get angry. And when I get angry, I say anything I need to to hurt you." Sebastian looked as though he was going to interrupt and Jim hurried to continue- he'd lose his nerve if he stopped now. "I try and push you away," His voice dropped to barely more than a whisper- this was so much harder than he'd anticipated. All his instincts were screaming at him to stop, to cut his losses and give up. "I try and push you away because I'm scared of losing you. I thought that maybe if I made you leave on my own terms then it would be a little easier to cope with. I was wrong. I can't- I need you, Sebastian. More than I think you know." He dropped his gaze to his hands, Sebastian's sightless stare burning into him even through the bandages. It felt strange, _wrong_ , to be so exposed and to have dropped all of the masks and barriers he'd been crafting to protect him for so long.

Sebastian’s nails dug into his palms as he curled his hands into tight fists, gritting his teeth as he pulled back from Jim and looked away, or what he thought was away. “I don’t trust you. How am I supposed to believe anything you say now?”

In the space between one breath and the nest Jim’s face fell and his defences slammed back up. “I- You just should Sebastian. I mean it, everything I just said.”

The sniper shook his head as if to clear it, pushing at Jim to try and move him as far away as he could on the narrow bed. “I can’t. The last time I saw you, you were covered in bruises and hickeys from some stranger that you slept with the intention of hurting me. That’s the last image of you I have or will ever have, Jim. I can’t just forget it because you realised you fucked up. I don’t trust you. It’ll take more than a little speech to make me trust you again.” His voice was flat and matter of fact and Jim swallowed hard as he stood up.

He turned to leave then looked back at Sebastian for a long moment. Before he could think about whether  it was a good idea or not he was leaning in and pressing his lips to Sebastian’s, fierce and a little desperate as he closed his eyes and allowed himself the weakness of wishing that this had never happened. Sebastian kissed him back for a split second before shoving Jim away, as if it had taken him those few seconds to realise he wasn’t supposed to be melting against Jim’s lips and curling his fingers in now mussed dark hair. It was only a split second but that split second was all Jim needed to put a small smile on his face as he left the room wordlessly. Obviously Sebastian still wanted him, all he had to do was win him over.

This wasn’t over yet.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim tries to worm his way back into Sebastian's heart and the sniper is having none of it.

At exactly one pm the next day, Sebastian was discharged from the hospital. The doctor had seemed a little unwilling to let him go but there was no damage, other than the obvious, and the injury itself had been meticulously done, carefully calculated to cause just the desired amount of damage and no more. The doctor had tried to convince Sebastian to contact the police and start a trial but the sniper insisted that he didn’t want to- if he was going to get revenge it would be in his own way, thank you very much. He was surprised that Jim didn’t turn up to drag him home, but it seemed that he’d listened to Sebastian when he’d told him to go away. Sebastian wouldn’t admit to himself that he was disappointed not to hear that familiar lilting accent when a hand gently landed on his shoulder, leading him through the hospital to the taxi bay- an overly flirty nurse yammering in his ear the whole way.

Getting upstairs was a struggle- only accomplished because of the good will of the taxi driver. The unexpected kindness was quickly explained when a familiar voice rang out, echoing in the empty hall. “Thank you, Davis.” The taxi driver relinquished his supporting grip on Sebastian and the sniper fought to keep his face expressionless despite the stab of fear at being completely marooned, reaching out automatically to touch the wall and regain his balance. He stayed stock still as Jim’s hand landed on his upper arm, having no choice but to trust the Irishman as he led him towards the flat door- step by faltering step.

There was a soft cuss from beside him as Sebastian bumped into the doorway, a mumbled sound, one that Sebastian would have mistaken for an apology if he didn’t know better, just catching his attention as Jim moved to leads him in a little easier. The door clicked shut and the echoing sound made Sebastian jump as he looked across at where he suspected Jim was. “Get out.”

Jim let out a soft noise of protest, shaking his head pointlessly. “I’m not leaving yet, darling.” He caught Sebastian’s hands, pulling and pushing him until he was sat on the sofa. “Just give me half an hour and I’ll leave.” The criminal bartered as he moved to the kitchen, playing some of Sebastian’s favourite music at a low volume while he pottered about.

Jim was only gone for a few minutes before he came back to Sebastian, frowning at the stiff backed way he was sat. “I made you some lunch, Seb.” He tried to keep his voice light and cheery as he placed the plate on Sebastian’s knee, pressing a fork into his hand gently. “Thought you might want some real food.”

Sebastian tightened his grip on the fork automatically, head dropping as he felt for the edge of the bowl awkwardly. He was hungry and, when he bothered, to try, Jim was a good cook. “What is it?” He yielded eventually, fumbling with the fork as he pressed it into the bowl with a loud clink. The sniper’s voice was guarded but the appeasement made Jim smile. It was better than being thrown out by his ear. “Pasta. There’s more on the second shelf of the fridge if you get hungry later.”

It was awkward and embarrassing trying to eat without spilling the pasta all over himself, head ducked low and bowl lifted to his chin, but Sebastian was indescribably glad that Jim didn’t attempt to help him. He could do this. He _had_ to do this.

It was a struggle for Jim not to do anything but sit and watch, talking about his day and the stupidity of the criminal classes and any other topics that happened to cross his mind. He didn’t stop talking until Sebastian had dropped his fork and he leaned over to guide the sniper’s hand to the coffee table and set down the bowl. He looked at his watch briefly, frowning as he realised he only had half an hour until he had to meet a client.

“I have to go, darling.” Jim sighed reluctantly, pausing for a moment before picking up the bowl and taking it into the kitchen to stack neatly into the dishwasher.

Sebastian pushed himself up somewhat shakily, trying to remember where all his furniture was placed. It was ridiculous, he decided, that despite having lived in the flat for years he couldn’t fully picture the layout. He swore as he banged his shin on the coffee table but the stab of pain wasn’t enough to dampen the victorious pride as he stumbled into the kitchen, balancing himself on the counter.

Jim watched Sebastian with a small smile. The sniper was resilient, if Jim knew him as well as he thought he did- and Jim was sure of this- then he’d be back on his feet soon enough. The criminal crossed the room and stood in front of the sniper, leaning up and pressing their lips together quickly. Sebastian reacted faster this time, pushing him away with an exasperated, “Jim!”

Jim didn’t react to the annoyed tone, just leaning up once more and wiping away a smudge of pasta sauce on the corner of Sebastian’s lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow, love.” He drawled, “I’m on speed dial if you need me.” The Irishman grinned as he danced away, letting the door click shut behind him as he make his way to his meeting.

As soon as the door closed the flat was filled with a thick smog of silence, broken only by the clanking of the central heating and the creaking of floorboards. Panic started rising in the pit of Sebastian’s stomach, freezing in his veins as he realised he was completely alone. He grabbed for his mobile, patting down his pocket until he found it before forcing himself to stop. He was _not_ going to call Jim and ask him to come back. He knew that he would; there was no doubt about that. But he refused to be that pathetic. He’d already made a mistake by letting Jim stay. He wouldn’t slip up again. He didn’t need Jim and Jim doesn’t need him anymore. The sooner he got used to that the better. He cautiously moved back to the sofa, turning on the television to convince himself that the flat wasn’t far too silent without Jim.

\---

Jim tapped his pen on his desk slowly and repetitively, the thumping beat acting as a metronome to keep his thoughts on track. His eyes were fixed on his laptop screen, watching Sebastian carefully from the cameras he’d had installed as soon as the sniper had quit.

The sniper was tossing and turning on top of his bedcovers, struggling to get comfortable, and Jim felt a peculiar urge to go and comfort him. He wasn’t used to feeling like this. Jim had been watching him since his meeting had ended- watching the way Sebastian started whenever there was an unexpected sound. Clearly the sniper wasn’t adjusting well to being along. Jim dropped his pen, moving the video feed to one side and opening a browser, beginning to type quickly. He might not have convinced Sebastian to come home but he could certainly make sure he was never alone.

\---

It took Sebastian three tries to find the right key to get into his flat after his first check up, and a further two attempts to slide it into the lock He’d been blind for three days now and it already felt like an eternity. Everything was so _hard_ now, even getting dressed was a struggle. He tightened his grip on the god awful cane he’d been given, carefully shutting the door behind him, feeling for the lock and clicking it across.

“Afternoon.” The call came from a spot just behind Sebastian and the sniper contemplated spinning around and ‘accidentally’ smacking Jim with the crane for a moment.

“Get out.” Sebastian sighed, fumbling to unlock the door again and scowling as Jim’s hand landed on top of his and pulled him around, presumably so they were face to face.

There was a soft noise, not quite a sigh and not quite a gasp and Jim’s hand fell from his and instead moved to the sniper’s cheek. Sebastian flinched at the contact, trying to back away but finding himself trapped in a corner. Jim hushed him, reaching up to touch the edge of the bandage. “There’s blood on your bandage, love.”

Sebastian swore, hand coming up to touch the bandage as if he could see the damage through his fingertips. “Doctor said that might happen.” He had bandages in his bag, and he’d been given a crash course in redoing the tight bandages around his face. First he had to get rid of Jim. He pulled away from Jim, using the cane to feel his way to the sofa and dropping down heavily. “I want you to leave, Jim.”

The Irishman simply shook his head, moving over to the sofa and standing in front of Sebastian, cupping his face in both hands. “I bought you a present. Let me change your bandages and then I’ll give it to you.”

“I don’t want it. And I can do my own bandages.” Sebastian said flatly, leaning away from Jim’s hands and huffing as the criminal refused to let go. “Get off.”

Jim reluctantly let go, padding over to the closed kitchen door. He looked back at the sniper before he opened it slowly. A German shepherd poked his nose around the door, butting against Jim’s knee as he looked around the flat. Jim looped his fingers through the dark red collar to stop him running off, smoothing his free hand down the dog’s back. It hadn’t been easy to find one that was readily trained but Jim had all the resources in the world.

Jim led the dog over to the sniper, reaching out to catch his hand and gently laying it on the dog’s head. “He’s already trained, knows how to act and can lead you and such.” Sebastian cautiously wound his fingers in the dog’s fur, petting it lightly and scratching behind its ears. The dog tipped its head forward into Sebastian’s hand, tail thumping happily against the floor.

He stayed silent for a moment, just stroking the dog slowly, before finally moving to look in Jim’s direction. “What is he?” He spoke softly, startling slightly as the dog nosed against his leg and dropped his head into Sebastian’s lap.

“A dog.” Jim snarked, raising an eyebrow that wouldn’t be seen before softening his tone. “He’s a German Shepherd.”

Sebastian nodded slowly, bringing his other hand up to pet the dog. “What’s his name?” He asked, carefully feeling his way around to scratch under the dog’s chin.

Jim watched them carefully, a little relieved that Sebastian seemed to like the guide dog. He had, momentarily, worried that Sebastian would take it as an insult to his independence but he had hoped that by choosing a dog he’d win Sebastian over. He knew all too well that the sniper had a fondness for dogs; he’d tried to convince Jim to get one for a long time. Jim had always said no, but then circumstances had changed.

Sebastian ran his fingers through soft fur, sliding down to the thick collar and following it around to the tag. It jingled quietly and he ran his thumb over it automatically, brow furrowing after a moment as he felt the raised letters stamped into it. He shushed Jim as the man started to speak, a look of concentration crossing his face as he stroked his thumb over the tag again. He moved slowly and carefully, picturing each letter in his mind as he traced out the word. He _could_ work this out. It took him two attempts to check and when he’d succeeded he let out a sceptical noise. “Is his name _Dog_?”

Jim nearly contradicted him. The dog’s name _wasn’t_ Dog. The tag said ‘Guide Dog’ with a space above it to stamp a chosen name. But Sebastian’s laughter was such a relief. He let the sniper laugh for a long few minutes, drinking in the sight of him leaning forward and muffling laughs against the dog’s fur as the dog itself nosed against his shoulder. All at once he realised two things; Sebastian would heal, even if it was slow, and Sebastian would be his again. He wouldn’t let him go. Not this time. “Yeah.” He said quietly after a long pause. “His name is Dog.”

Jim stood, moving to the sofa and crouching beside Dog as he waited for Sebastian’s laughter to subside, a soft smile settling on the sniper’s face. “There’s a high-vis harness on the coffee table. He’s well trained so it should be easy enough to get it on him. Let him lead you, he knows what he’s doing.”

With a slow nod, Sebastian stroked Dog under his chin. “I don’t go anywhere anymore.” But maybe he could. He’d have to take Dog for a walk every day anyway. He could get his life back. “We’ll see.” He paused for a moment. “Thanks.”

Jim smiled at that, scratching behind Dog’s ear as he stood. “You’re welcome, love.” He straightened out his suit jacket as he spoke. “I’ve hired someone to come and clean your flat twice a day. They’ll clean up after Dog and make sure that you’ve got everything you need.” And make sure you don’t ger lonely, he added in his head. With a smile he tipped up Sebastian’s head, kissing him quickly and grinning as he was immediately shoved away. “Goodbye, darling.” He drawled, darting away and out the door.

Sebastian stared sightlessly at the space Jim had just been occupying before leaning back on the sofa, stretching out and shaking his head as Dog jumped up beside him. “He really is a piece of work.” But under the grunt of annoyance was something else, something soft and sweet and much more like affection than anger.


End file.
